


Blood-Splattered Child

by makot0naegi



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Child Abandonment, Childhood Trauma, Daddy Issues, Developing Friendships, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Secrets, Felicia is a Hoshidan commander, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Invisible Kingdom | Revelation Route, Japanese Culture, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Men Crying, Mental Health Issues, Mistakes were made, No Deeprealms, Orochi plays therapist, Panic Attacks, Political Alliances, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Royalty, Ryoma finally gets called out for being a liar, SO MUCH THERAPY, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Spoilers, Therapy, Trouble In Paradise, World-Builiding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:55:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27512683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makot0naegi/pseuds/makot0naegi
Summary: There were two children in Cheve that day. The one that was lost, and the one that lost everything. There was never any reason to worry for the one left behind, was there? Ryoma was strong. Ryoma was the blood-splattered child who survived it all. His family and his kingdom regarded him with the utmost pride, but forgot him. They forgot who he was, and remembered only his strength.If strength was what they wanted, strength would be what they got. They needed only to remember a simple thing: even the strongest will eventually come to break.
Relationships: Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Blood-Splattered Child

_June 11th ___

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_In one fell swoop, I have made my worst nightmare come alive. ___

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_Everyone I know and love hates me. ___

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_If they don’t yet, I am certain they will soon. After all, if I can make so many people hate me so rapidly, it must be another thing in my life that I am naturally skilled at. Not nearly as charming as lying and manipulating, I’m sure, but still something that ruins me nonetheless. There is nothing quite like your youngest brother, whom you have raised like you were his father since he was three, telling you that he hates you with the fire he used to grant only to your enemies. Perhaps the sight of your youngest sister’s tear-stained cheeks might compare, or the eldest sister’s face that turned as red hot as her hair as she screams at you. If you’re lucky, it might even be your sister – sorry, step-sister – telling you that you are a lying asshole. ___

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_I’m not proud of who I am. I have not been for a long time. I don’t have it within my person to say that I am deserving of a single thing I have. I am well aware of how much misery I am owed, in spite of all of the pleasures the Dawn Dragon blesses upon me. I suppose I just… scarcely realized how much damage I have done to the people who love me. Sometimes I forget how selfish I can be. Some might argue that as a crown prince who gave up childhood, autonomy, and love, I have some right to behave in a selfish manner. They would paint me as martyr; a man who has given everything he has to his people… A falsehood. Propaganda to idealize the royal family, just as the people of Hoshido have always done. My family knows me for who I really am. Especially now that they know what I am really like. How long might it be until the rest of the country knows, too? ___

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_I thought I did the right thing. Bad people always say that, don’t they? I suppose it’s fitting. Not telling Corrin what I knew about her parentage just felt like the least I could do for Father. I certainly thought it was, considering that I’d already been so useless to him as he lay dying. Was it so wrong to want to protect a dead man’s wish? He trusted me with the information, and told me not to tell another soul. Knowing what I know about my sister, I thought everything would be alright. If it ever came up, I assumed that she would forgive me, because Father willed it so. Because it was Father’s wish, and that I had already failed him as a son that day in Cheve, and I was just doing the least I could do to protect what he left behind. Of all people, I expected Corrin to understand. It was a horrible shock to me when she failed to, and instead shifted the blame onto me. ___

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__“You are not the victim,” The prince mutters to himself, glaring at the inked words of his sorrow, “This is what everyone meant when they called you manipulative. Nobody feels sorry for you. You should not feel sorry for yourself, either. You do not deserve pity.”_ _

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_Perhaps that’s not the right way of putting things. I do not think myself as blameless in the situation as I once did. If I held the secret of her parentage from her until the right moment after her return, and used it as something important for her to know that Mother couldn’t share… I imagine it would have been fine. Takumi and Sakura had been alright when we told them that Mother wasn’t biologically ours. I thought perhaps Corrin might be the same, should I ever have decided to tell her the truth. If our paths in life had been different, perhaps I might have, but... Such a situation could only have come together if Corrin had simply sided with Hoshido in the first place. That’s what I wanted then, yet I do not feel as if I should fault that decision for peace now. As horrified as I am by the events of tonight, there is much that I feel I managed to protect by following the path Corrin chose. ___

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__Ryoma’s hands tremble as he stares at the page. It’s hard to know what he should say. Words have never come easily to him in conversation, and almost never when it comes to talking about his feelings. Writing is better. Still hard, but better. Especially right now, when all his nerves are jumbled. He can barely ignore the pounding of his heart in his ears, and the lump in his throat that feels much too strong. For the first time in a long time, he’s afraid he might actually burst into tears._ _

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_I wish Corrin had never been forced to make that choice. I would not have said what I said if that were the case. I would not have hurt her the way I hurt her if I did not have to convince her to stay. She has always been my sister. I have always loved her. Even knowing what Father knew, she’s always been mine. I never thought of her as anything different. The secrets, and the kidnapping, and the years spent apart did not change that for me. I could never have imagined that thinking of her as my own flesh and blood would be the problem. Gods, I don’t even remember what I said that day. ___

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__How pathetic does someone have to be, to lie to a book?_ _

__“You would discard your true family and side with those who stand against us?”_ _

__He very much remembers, although he wishes he didn’t. How had he said that so comfortably that day? The pressure of those words on his lips now created a pounding in his temples. Was he going to break down, or was he just… hurt? Confused? They felt right at the time, but bad things so often do. Were they full of malice, or was it fear that drove him that day? Surely, he could at least convince himself that the words were not a calculated move. It was certainly possible to be accidentally manipulative… Maybe not for him, though. He knows he should own this if he ever wants to get better, but it’s hard to admit that he’s done something wrong. He’s not used to it._ _

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_I suppose I did lie to her. Not as plainly as she made it seem, but she is not exactly wrong. It’s comical, almost – Scarlet used to tell me that I had these honest eyes. “When I look at you, Ryoma, I just trust you,” She told me once, with the loose lips of a drunk, “Everyone can just take one look and see that you’ve got good intentions. I knew that the day you first came to Cheve looking for help.” She misread me. It hurts me to think that I am not the person she thought I was. If she were still alive, she would be disappointed in me. Perhaps she’d even hate me, like all of the others do. ___

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_I truly, genuinely thought I did the right thing. The thought of Corrin returning to Nohr drove me mad. There was this… pain that I remember. Something that shot straight through my chest when she first said she would side with neither Nohr nor Hoshido. I recognized the feeling in some way. It mirrored the pain I feel after a nightmare, my heartbeat running rampant. At the time, the situation laid before us encompassed my being so greatly that I ignored it. Every word Corrin said, I clung to. My whole chest squeezed tight, and for a minute or so, it felt as if my head was spinning. I almost couldn’t keep my bearings as I tried to stare down the face of Prince – no, King – Xander; I loathed the idea of letting him know I was faltering. ___

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_I remember wanting to reach out. I wanted to take hold of somebody’s hand, as if to steady myself. Not that having anyone there would have done me any good anyway. I remember how numb my hands felt. My palms were slicked with sweat from proximity to Raijinto, but I could barely feel it. It was as if all sensation in them had just gone away. My mind raced. Do I even remember what I was thinking? All I can recall is being afraid that Corrin was going to turn her back on us. The thought repeated like a mantra; it swirled in a constant loop. I’m not certain that I could tell you any more of what I said. I know that it is pathetic of me to not remember, yet I cannot recall. All I recall is being afraid. Gods, I don’t know why. ___

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__Ryoma slouches, and thinks maybe it’s time that he tosses the brush aside. Most of the time, recording his thoughts makes him feel better, but it seems to only be getting worse this time around. His head is throbbing, and there’s still this awful lump in his throat, and these irritating tears that are threatening to spill from his eyes because gods forbid, he confronts this without manipulating something somehow! Even with no one around to convince or play for a fool, he still finds ways to cause trouble. How pathetic is he? His hands curl into fists, and he feels the urge to hit something._ _

__No. He should keep writing. Mother always said it was better to use words than violence to sort things out._ _

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_I wish I had someone to talk to. As I said before, I have always been a better writer than speaker, but to have someone who would answer back would be nice. Give me some advice, tell me who I am… At the moment, I must admit that I have no clue. It’s all wishful thinking, however. All of my siblings are angry with me. Even Sakura seemed disappointed in me; she was so unwilling to meet my gaze. Kagero is not better. She’s the only retainer that I have as of right now, but I know she won’t give me the answers I need. She’s more likely to convince me to interpret it for myself, but if tonight has proven anything… I should not be allowed to do that. Part of me supposes that I could try to ask Felicia for her time, or perhaps Jakob, but they are both affiliated with Corrin, who is angry with me. The same goes for all of my siblings’ retainers, but Jakob and Felicia are actually probably the worst bet. Jakob, I know would sooner spit in my face than talk to me, and Felicia… well, she and I are close, but she can hold her anger. I doubt she’d be willing to say a word. She’d looked so heartbroken when she heard what I did. Who could blame her? I’m horribly disappointed in myself too. ___

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_I really do wonder if I should be disappointed, though. After all, I’m the fool who did this to myself. I’ve known since I was a child that something was wrong with me; there was just always some part of me that refused to believe it. What kind of child makes his mother kill herself? What kind of child does nothing when his sister is taken, and his father slaughtered before his eyes? What kind of man watches his step-mother, who raised him knowing he was a flagitious creature, die and rather than avenging her, is beaten back by her murderer? What kind of man lies to his little sister to get her to do what he wants, and attempts to hurt her when things do not go his way? I’m horrible. I’m vile. Everything everyone’s told me tonight, I already know. I deserve their anger, their disdain, their hatred. I wish they had never loved me. ___

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_I wish no one had ever loved me. ___

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__Ryoma sniffles softly as a rogue tear finally manages to trickle down his cheek. Gods, how can he be so feeble? He should have known that there would never be any hope for him. Mother and Father and Mother left, and so would everyone else. He cannot do anything about it. He knows he deserves this. There is nothing to cry about._ _

__There is nothing to cry about._ _

__Placing the brush down on the table, he reaches up to wipe his face. He can only humiliate himself further by breaking down like a child. It is much better to stop the pity party before it starts; he needs to put the brush down and walk away. Gingerly, he reaches over and places the lid on his jar of ink. He is careful to twist it shut, lest he knock it over in the morning and spill it all over the freshly written pages. If he dies from loneliness or heartbreak, he figures they might like to have historical records of what happened. At least, this is what he decides as he screws the lid on. Honestly, keeling over and dying sounds pretty good right about now, but he doesn’t want any of the others to blame themselves for it. He remembers how much being responsible for his mother hurt, and he would never wish that on any of them. In his heart he knows that no matter what they would still hate him, but he still loves them too much to wish them that pain. It is much better for them to get to watch him suffer with the consequences of his actions, and laugh as he only grows more and more alone. Perhaps that will be the retribution they deserve._ _

__For once, he thinks he will actually be going to bed early. Most nights he spends frantically working through as much paperwork as he can until Sakura or Felicia comes stomping in to scold him for his disregard for his health, but tonight he doesn’t have the heart for it. He has already lost so much energy mourning his inevitable future. It is better to go to bed tonight, and wake up tomorrow with a new life. His sorrow cannot bother him while he sleeps. In a best-case scenario, perhaps he might even wake up in the morning with today having been a terrible, horrible nightmare._ _

__Pushing himself up from where he is sitting, he wanders over to his bed. He can’t help but stop and stare at it, as if it’s something completely unreal. Lit up only by the moonlight that pours through the window, he supposes it kind of does look strange. Foreboding, in a way. Beds are usually supposed to be comforting, he thinks, but it’s not exactly as if he deserves anything like that. If this bed is secretly some monster that wants to swallow him whole, well… okay then. He crashes into it without a second thought, praying that the promise of rest will not dangle over him like a carrot to a hungry pegasus. What he needs now is to just try to forget. If he truly has lost everyone, the best thing to do would be to learn to let it go. It’s not like he didn’t know this day was coming. He’s just a little surprised that it took so long to get here._ _

__Shutting his eyes, he wills himself not to think. Demanding tears are still pushing relentlessly at his eyes and throat, but he’ll be damned if he lets them get the best of him. He sniffles once more, swiping at his eyes to make sure that he’s alright. Nobody will, yet there’s a part of him that worries someone might come barging in and catch him like this. How in the gods’ names would he explain the influx of emotion, especially if it was to someone like Sakura or Takumi? It’s been ages since they last saw him cry. Not since they were all younger… Ugh, the thought of his younger siblings, sweet and innocent like they used to be, makes his heart twist._ _

__Back when Takumi was young, he adored Ryoma. He talked about his big brother like he hung the sun in the sky. As Sumeragi died when the boy was no more than three years old, Ryoma was the only father figure that he ever really knew or remembered. When he was little, he’d come toddling over to his big brother the second he entered the room, grabbing hold of his legs and giving them a big hug. Ryoma would reach down to ruffle Takumi’s hair and ask him about his day, and of course little Takumi would tell him everything. The memories of his little brother’s stories faded over the years, but he could still remember bits and pieces. Tales of the epic adventures his and Sakura’s dolls had taken, lessons he’d learned from only the best tutors, and questions he had for his all-knowing big brother about the world… those were just a few of the commonplace occurrences. He’s not sure when or why all of this stopped as Takumi grew, but he misses it. He misses having his little brother be so happy to see him when he comes into a room. It all seemed so simple growing up, but now Takumi hates him. Hell, he hated him long before the Corrin problem came to fruition. They both just decided it would be best for them if Ryoma pretended not to see it, and Takumi pretended not to feel it. But everyone knew it was there._ _

__Once upon a time, he might have taken some comfort in the fact that he at least had Hinoka and Sakura to love him, even if Takumi didn’t. He had been close with Hinoka since childhood, and when the world tried to tear them apart piece by piece, they were always there for each other. There were many nights he recalled feeling like he never would have gotten through without Hinoka’s comfort and reassurance. Their shared fixation on bringing Corrin back and fighting for peace allowed them to knit a close bond, which Ryoma might have been proud of in different circumstances. Now, all he could do was wonder if she felt as gutted as he did that they would never have that sort of relationship again. It didn’t take any stroke of genius to know that Sakura would definitely feel the same as he in her own relationship with him. Like Takumi, Ryoma was the only father she knew. She looked up to him and loved him in that unconditional way that kids do. She was always by his side, greeting him with compassion when he felt broken, and treating him to her smiles when the pain seemed unending. Truthfully, Ryoma would have always loved to be closer to his baby sister, but it wasn’t like they had much of a chance. Duty stole him away from her and Takumi at every turn, and gods did it get infuriating sometimes. His heart aches at the thought that he is unlikely to ever have that opportunity again. Even if she forgives him, she will never trust him again. Rightfully so, he thinks bitterly, grabbing the nearest pillow to squish over his head. He knows it won’t drown out the thoughts, but it’s a welcome comfort to at least feel as if he’s shutting himself up._ _

__He doesn’t dare let his mind drift to Corrin or Azura. Both girls are a weak spot for him, and should he consider how they make him feel, he knows he will erupt into the breakdown he has been so desperately trying to suppress. Just forget, he commands himself. Just close your eyes and forget. Nobody loves you anymore. Nobody loves you anymore, and you deserve it. Just forget it. You are better off alone._ _

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__When Ryoma’s eyes flutter open, he knows he’s not awake. On nights like these, he’s not enough of a fool to think that he is. He knows this moment, this feeling, this dream. Silence is what tips him off, just as it always does. With siblings like his, the castle is scarcely ever silent. In his dreams, however, it is quiet as Setsuna’s mind. It’s much more torturous this way, and that’s the way his demons like it. If loneliness would be his killer, then it is noiselessness that would accompany it like a tragic melody._ _

__It’s not something worth thinking about, he tells himself. Shaking off the insects of his anxiety is easy when it comes to quietude. Gaining the courage to overcome what he knows will happen later is more of a mountain to climb, and it is absolutely vital that he saves his strength for that. Nobody can be conscious of that kind of thing in their sleep, yet somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows his siblings will not be there to comfort him when he wakes. This throe of nightmares is one that he must defeat on his own. No other options are available to him._ _

__How fast can he kill this and be done? Sweat has already slicked his palms as he lifts his head from the pillow. He can’t help but wonder if anything will happen if just this once, he chooses not to leave his room. Could wakefulness come before the reawakening of traumas? No, he decides, it will not change a thing. If he were to neglect them out there in the hallway, they would simply come into his room. But who first? His head spins as he tries to recall the faces he would rather just forget. His mind’s favourite will always be Sumeragi, with a head and body mutilated in death. Face frozen in a snarl, his blood and pus oozing from the massive gash spanning across his stomach and chest, the arrows sticking out of him like quills on a porcupine… It’s the simplest to remember. In all honesty, it wouldn’t shock Ryoma to see it here again tonight. Given the broken promise from earlier that evening, it would have been more surprising to not have him be the main event. Still, there was perhaps a chance that someone else wanted to take that honour. Maybe Mikoto desired his head on a platter for revealing her truth. Perhaps Scarlet would come crawling back, charred skin and all, to make him pay for deceiving her._ _

__Does it even matter who it is? Ryoma thinks not. Whoever it is, they have already died a thousand times over. All they’re doing is staring him down, whispering bitterly about how it is he who has done this to them. Like he isn’t already aware of that. In a good dream, he might be able to find Raijinto somewhere in his bedroom to protect him. This is a bad one, however, so the sword is gone. Likely finding a home in his father’s hands, one can imagine. It’s best to shrug it off and leave, he decides. If Raijinto isn’t there, then maybe he’ll actually have a chance at this going by faster._ _

__He stands and walks towards the door, not a whimper of hesitation threatening his demeanour. If he can fight through a day in the castle with this same grace, he knows he can do it in a nightmare. At least, he likes to think he can. Every time it feels as if it’s getting worse and worse, but he soldiers through it. A cold sweat and panicked breaths are awaiting him in his real bed, and if he can just get through this pain, he won’t have to worry anymore. Just handle it with grace, he orders himself. His hand finds its way to the door and slides it open, the stench of a rotting body filling his nose immediately._ _

__Just as expected. Someone is waiting for him._ _

__“How many times do I have to kill you before you leave me alone?” The statement is a joke, but nobody laughs. Not even Ryoma himself. They won’t move until he does, and all he can think to do is turn his head to stare at them. Just as expected once more. He locks eyes with his father and smiles painfully. “Do you miss me as much as I miss you, and insist on coming back for that reason?”_ _

__Sumeragi doesn’t answer. He just stares at his son with dead fish eyes._ _

__“That’s just as well,” Ryoma sighs, “Here’s to another round, I suppose.”_ _


End file.
